Day 40: 8/06/09: Ribadiso to Santa Irene (19ish kms)

In Galicia, the north western part of Spain, it rains on average 1 in 3 days during the year. But since we reached Galicia several days ago, the rain has barely stopped for a second. Every day we arrive at our destination grateful for our warm waterproof clothes.

We´ve walked so far over so many days in the rain that it no longer really worries me. However, today´s rain is a torrential downpour and I'm at the point where I really can't get any wetter. My feet are floating within my shoes, and the water resistant pants decided resistance was futile hours ago.

Some parts of the track are completely under water for hundreds of meters, and we climb through the bush until it gets shallower again.

I jokingly issue the challenge "Bring it on, Little Storm!".

Note to self: if I'm ever again miles from shelter carrying thousands of dollars of photographic equipment and decide to issue a direct challenge to the elements: don't. The elements win. Convincingly.

By the time we reach the next cafe and burst in through the door, we're carrying enough excess water that by simply standing there we flood half the cafe. The front balance packs have two inches of water in them... and this is where all the camera gear is, along with our passports, this diary, the guide books, etc. It's all floating inside our packs!

(postscript: although the camera didn't survive, the memory cards with the photos were OK. Phew.)

After moving the essentials from the front packs to the waterproof backpacks, we grab a coffee: partly to get warm; partly to apologise for the pools of water on the floor. We're by far not the only ones doing this -- dozens of pilgrims huddle around their hot drink of choice.

Heading back out into the storm, we head directly to the first albergue we can find, rather than to the town we'd originally aimed for. We'd been due to do laundry anyway, so when the host offers (for a hefty fee) to wash & dry our clothes, we give her every single item we have, and I huddle under a blanket in my bathers while eagerly waiting for their return.

The rest of the day is spent trying to dry our equipment. Right before bed we discover that water has seeped in through the bottom of our backpacks, and the few things we'd thought were dry (like our sleeping bags) are actually wet too.

We have a great dinner a group of people new to us, where we all laugh about the day, talk about our Camino so far, and post Camino plans.

Tomorrow is our final day of walking. Many people stop overnight at a town 4kms from Santiago so they can attend mass in the morning, but as we'll be in Santiago for several days we don't need the extra stop.

Our perspective of time is distorted. It's only been 40 days of walking so far, but it seems like ten-fold that amount. It seems so long ago that we left home.